Written in the Stars
by RainbowJH
Summary: Falling in love was never really a part of the plan. How does it fit into the pages of their own web of lies was the mystery they have to solve together. Adopted from AliceEnchated. T-rated
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

* * *

 _As easy might I from myself depart_

 _As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie_

 _That is my home of love._

 _William Shakespeare, 'Sonnet 109'_

* * *

"Hermione?" a voice floated toward her. "Can you hear me?"

"Please, wake up." A voice and also a face, one she was familiar with but could not put her finger on. A voice and a face in her dream, a dream she was not even certain she having: an unsettling dream – a nightmare – in which she was running and all around her were mangled and unmoving bodies and parts of bodies, battle cries and everything in ruins.

The air smelled of blood and burnt flesh. This made her sick and she fought hard not to vomit.

Hermione felt tired: her muscles were screaming in pain, her body in exhaustion. She wanted to close her burning eyes, to have her filthy body cleaned and rested, her bruises and cuts healed.

But now isn't the right moment. She needed to find her two best friends. Were they safe? Were they okay? Will this war ever end? Will they even make it?

For Hermione, she didn't know. Maybe, nobody would ever know. To be honest, she's afraid that they might not win this war, afraid that this is how her life would end; but she would rather fight from down to her very last breath to save her loved ones than watch them die in the hands of evil.

She may never know how, she may never know if she can. But she would, and she would never lay her armors down. Not now, not tomorrow, not soon. Not ever.

She was so lost in her own thought that she was not aware to where she was heading until she tripped over a rock outcropping from the ground. She landed face first on the ground, staring straightly at Ginny's unseeing eyes. She choked back a sob and swallowed the lump on her throat. "Oh, Ginny."

Slowly, she crawled to her first girl best friend and held her prone frame to her lap. "Why?" By now, salty tears were freely falling down her face. And she just let them go. Ginny, the girl she had grown to love as the sister she never had was dead.

Harry would be devastated. He would blame himself over and over again. And she couldn't bear seeing him like that. Sirius' death was enough - Harry! Where was he? Is he safe? It had been an hour or two since they lost each other. Where could he have been?

Sniffing, she brushed her tears away carelessly and carefully laid Ginny on the ground, closing the younger witch's lifeless brown eyes as she did.

She stood up and took a long and deep breath. "Goodbye, Gin. I love you, remember that. So does Harry, and Ron and your family. Rest in peace."

She bent down and placed a kiss on her forehead.

Then she took off, her mind set on finding her best friend. She ran as fast as her tired legs could carry her. Wand in hand, hazel eyes alert.

Behind her, an eerie laugh echoed, sending chills down her spine. An odd twist settled on her stomach. A shout, terrified and helpless, followed, almost making her want to look back. To see who it was. To whom it belonged.

"Harry Potter," a cold voice declared, making her turn to the direction it came from. Voldemort stood there, just in front of the castle's entrance, an unpleasant grin painted on his snake-like face.

Hermione felt fear clenching violenty in her stomach.

"Is dead!"

The said boy laid by the Dark Lord's feet, his messy hair matted with blood, his face dirty, his wand rested on his limp hands and his green eyes void of life.

"No." The tears she shed earlier for Ginny came back. But this time, it was more painful.

Then a pandemonium erupted. There were streams of spells and curses from everywhere, filling the air with dread.

She began to run toward him, though she knew it was a hopeless case. But her mind is set on reaching him. To cradle him against her chest. Her best friend; her brother in all but blood. "Harry."

Without a warning, a slicing hex grazed her right foot, making her fall on her knees, panting and sweating and weak.

"Ooh, does the little mudblood need any help? Too bad you don't have any friends left to do so!" the black-haired witch let out a maniacal laugh, an evil glint reflecting in her dark eyes.

Hermione sneered at her, suppressing a wince when she made an attempt to stand up. "Lestrange."

"Ah, so the mudblood speaks!" she cackled. "It's a shame that would be your last word."

It happened so fast that she could only catch sight of a green light headed for her before darkness lulled her in its arms. Her last thoughts were of her friends.

Everything was silent for a while. So silent it was deafening, so deadly that she could hear the most distant pleas of the helpless, the softest whisper of the wind or a pin drop. She was aware of the soft grass beneath her; it reminded her of the smell of her home.

She tried remembering what brought her here. But all that she could pull from her mind was the sound of tires slipping off the road, the ear-splitting clatter of metal against metal, the loud shattering of glass, the smell of fire, and the blood that flowed from her forehead to her face.

And then she was falling in a deep, dark hole. She tried calling for help, but when she opened her mouth, no sound came out. She tried reaching for something she could hold unto, but her hands were only met by cold air.

There were no walls, or ceilings, all she knew is that she's tumbling in somewhere dark – an endless black space of nothingness, a great sea of uncertainty.

Was she dead? If so, was this what being dead felt like? Like floating, and drifting, and flying in a tangible darkness. And all she could do was wait for something to happen, though she was without the slightest ideas if there would be so.

But before:

"Hermione," the voice said. It seemed to reach her from across an impossible distance. A continent. An ocean. It seemed to come from the stars.

"Hermione…"

Then she knew no more.

* * *

 **So I am finally posting this. I have adopted this story from AliceEnchated so you may have already come across this before. The first four chapters are written by Alice and the credits go to her. I'll be posting the next chapter in 4 days. This chapter is wholly unedited and am posting it as it was.**

 **Take care,**

 **Rainbow**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1**

* * *

 _Can I see another's woe,_

 _And not be in sorrow too?_

 _Can I see another's grief,_

 _And not seek for kind relief?_

 _William Blake, 'On Another's Sorrow'_

* * *

Pain.

All she could feel and remember was pain: pain that burned every fiber of her body; pain which left her smoldering as if she was in chaos with each second that passed.

Pain that tarnished her skin, blinded her eyes, deafened her ears. Pain that coursed through her whole being and tore through her soul. Pain that she had twice been acquainted with before. The third time being now.

Pain she could associate with only one name:

Bellatrix Lestrange.

The dark-haired witch stood looming over her and Hermione could feel the tip of the older woman's wand pressing at her throat. Lestrange's eyes were burning with determination, her lips curled in a crazed grin.

Lestrange's mouth was moving in a silent scream. And Hermione tried to focus on what she was saying. She really did but her ears and brain wouldn't cooperate. All she could make out was the desperate ringing in her ears which reminded her of a radio going haywire.

Hermione felt tired – so badly she wanted to close her eyes and fall in the arms of the awaiting darkness. And Lestrange's weight on top of her didn't help.

But she didn't. She can't, no matter what and how she tried.

She remembered the same feeling: the nauseating somersaults that settled on her stomach, the taste of bile on her tongue, the coppery smell of blood. Her blood.

She wondered when this would end – the seemingly endless torture inflicted on her. She wondered if she'd die this way.

She hoped she didn't.

* * *

She awoke to the cold and haunting voices around her. Voices by the hundreds, by the thousands of the dead. Voices in their scornful whispers, taunting above her, and some of them were screaming. Hermione listened to them with a heavy heart, wishing she could have done something to save them, to help them. She counted off the seconds as the voices grew stronger, louder, and in doing so, she came upon the realization that she was still alive, only that she was surrounded by a blinding darkness.

She sat upright. Who knew where she was or how could she still be alive. Why hadn't the darkness dissipated yet. She swore she could feel that she was still floating, though she's now accompanied with voices, not having the slightest idea of whom they belong to.

Suddenly, the voices stopped, like they were being carried away by the wind. Then there was nothing.

And yet:

 _Hermione_.

The sound of her name, whispered on the darkness.

 _Hermione, wake up. Come back to us._

 _Come back to us. Open your eyes. We're waiting for you…_

She knew whose voice it was.

"Harry…"

Hermione walked towards it with cautious steps, her footfalls echoing through the dark. Twenty feet away, a stream of light drifted towards her, warm and bright. So bright that it almost blinded her.

 _We are safe, don't worry._

She held out a hand, her slender fingers reaching out to feel it, wanting to touch it. One step, two steps, three, four, and five…

 _Come back to us, Hermione. Come back._

She leaned forward, her fingers meeting the light, she took a final step, the brightness enveloping her.

 _Come back to us._

* * *

"I don't think she's waking up anytime soon," said Harry. "Her doctors couldn't even say when."

"We shouldn't lose hope, Harry." Ginny Weasley sat beside her boyfriend as she gazed forlornly at her best friend who laid on the brink of death in the hospital bed. Hermione looked papery pale, and her breathing was slow and deep, almost labored.

She let out a dejected exhale as she took in the state of her room. Different kinds of machines littered the pallid walls: machines she didn't recognize or even sure if they were of use. One of them sported a long blue tube that was connected on the left corner of her mouth, one which she could vaguely remember the doctor said that supported her breathing; and one with some sort of thin wires that went under her hospital gown.

She was not sure what the latter was for. But the contraption it was connected to emitted a soft buzzing sound.

It had been two months since she came across that terrible car accident. They said she was fortunate she survived, that not everyone can outlive a car accident – a miracle, was what they would call it.

The doctor said that Hermione's life now only depended on herself, that she might die if she wouldn't wake up soon.

"It's a lucky case, if she would. I'm giving you seventy-two hours. If she doesn't wake up soon, then there's nothing that I can do." Dr. Marquez remarked when she examined her condition the other day.

Ginny, however; did not believe in miracles. She never did and never will. But she believed that her best friend, her sister in all but blood, would surpass this: that she'll live through this.

"Hermione's a strong girl." She spoke it out loud, trying to convince herself as much as Harry.

He was silent for a while. Then, "I just can't lose her, Ginny. Not her, not Hermione," he sobbed. Harry and Hermione were undeniably close that you could almost say they were couples. But their friends and family knew that they treated each other as the sibling they never had. "Not when I lost almost everyone…"

The redhead let her own tears fell freely and made to grab of his hand, squeezing it to give him comfort, to let him know he's not alone. "Things are going to get better, Harry. She'll be fine."

How ironic, she thought, nobody knew way back then that a girl can capture their hearts with her own person then break them one day by an unwanted event. "But what if she doesn't wake up?"

She looked at him as if seeing him for the first time, and even though he didn't meet her gaze, either he didn't want to or he couldn't, Ginny could see the pain and longing that were painted clearly on his face.

"She will, Harry," she retorted. "Our Hermione will. She survived the war, though scathed, but she did. A car accident wouldn't kill her."

Harry's watery gaze landed on her. "That doesn't answer my question, Gin."

She gave him a sad smile. "Somehow, I believe, it does."

* * *

It was the evening of July 21 when Hermione Granger – daughter of Matthew and Stella Granger, one-third of the Golden Trio, Harry Potter's best friend, Brightest Witch of Her Age, War Heroine – awakened to the murmurs around her.

She was wary to open her eyes at first, afraid that if she did, the haunting voices would come back. She still remembered them: Voices by the hundreds, by the thousands of the dead. Voices whispering and taunting above her, and some screaming distantly.

But when none came, she slowly opened her burning eyes. Even from her long sleep, she felt much drained.

The first thing she registered in her mind was that she was lying on a slightly soft bed and a warm blanket was tucked to her small waist. The whiteness of her surrounding reminded her of her dream made her squint. A mechanical beeping greeted her ears and she felt a light piercing on right forearm. A sticky material was scratching the left corner of her mouth and her chest area felt heavy with a coin-like weight.

Hermione automatically concluded that she was in a hospital. 'Ugh,' she thought. 'I hate hospitals.' She tried to shift but sharp pain punctured her body when she did. Her head was throbbing and there was an annoying buzz that rang out of her ears. 'Why am I in a hospital?'

Her mind sought the possible answers why, but she couldn't comprehend a single thing.

"Hermione!" was all the warning she got before a blur of red grabbed her shoulders and gently pushed her back down. "Don't move! You're not totally healed yet."

Ginny.

Hermione tried to talk, but when she opened her mouth, she found out that she couldn't utter a word. "No, no, no. don't speak."

"Harry, call the doctor. Quick!" a hurried shuffling and scraping of metal against the floor made her wince which did not go unnoticed by Ginny. 'She might have some memories of the accident,' the redhead thought sadly. "It's alright, Hermione. You're safe."

When she attempted to open her mouth, Ginny slapped her cheeks very lightly and held out a pen and notebook to her. "Write what you want to say."

When did she grab those?

Hermione merely shifted her gaze from Ginny to the writing materials in her hands back and forth like the redhead had lost her mind. "What? It's not like that I was permitted to remove that tube in your mouth. You still can't breathe on your own."

Hermione just stared at her sleepily. And blinked. Her mind was fuzzy.

Ginny let out a sigh when the brunette still did not accept the writing materials. "We'll have to wait for Dr. Marquez, then."

As if on cue, the door opened with a small creak and Harry entered her room followed by a tall woman who must be in her late twenties. She wore a white crisp lab gown over her blue blouse and black pencil skirt and a stethoscope was hooked neatly on her neck. Her blonde hair was tied back in a neat bun and she walked toward Hermione with a motherly gleam on her features, a warm and reassuring smile painted on her pink lips.

"Good to see you awake, Miss Granger. I'm Ruby Marquez, your doctor."

Hermione gave the woman a small nod which only made her headache worse.

Grabbing the writing equipments at last, she scribbled, with some difficulty, 'What's wrong with my head?'

"You gave us a scare, Miss Granger, when you were admitted here, I would say. You almost didn't respond to your medication," Dr. Marquez pulled the stethoscope from her neck and slipped the chest piece over Hermione's hospital gown to her heart. Hermione shuddered faintly under the cool touch of the instrument.

"But you were lucky you weren't driving the car."

Car? What car?

Hermione hated being clueless. And now, she was under that state.

The clinician spared a glance at the ECG machine on the bed's left side. "Your heart beat is still low. But it has improved from the last time."

"What does that mean, doctor?" asked a worried Harry, who now stood beside Ginny, his hands wrapped around the redhead's waist. Ginny also waited for the healer's answer with equally concerned look on her face. "I don't think you've mentioned it before."

Turning to the boy, Dr. Marquez answered, "Miss Granger had fractured some of her upper ribs which almost snapped a vein on her heart. She's very lucky that it did not. And she'll be fine, Mr. Potter. She has to stay here for two more weeks for further observation, though."

The bespectacled boy nodded in understanding, though the lines of anxiousness didn't leave his forehead.

The woman averted her gaze back to her patient, the smile still gracing her features. "For the meantime, I cannot yet remove your stitches and replace your endotracheal tube with a cannula. So, you can't talk yet."

'Great,' Hermione thought. She couldn't move her body without feeling a surge of pain shoot through her, blood was pumping in her head and now she couldn't talk! Hermione wanted to groan in frustration. But for now, she needed to close her eyes. 'Merlin, there's so much light.'

"I would suggest-"

The doctor's voice faded in the background as her vision swam in messy circles. The pounding on her head grew stronger and stronger; the ringing in her ears louder and louder that it almost drowned her. And then she was falling…

"Hermione?"

"Great, she's asleep again."

* * *

Six days had transpired before Hermione had her endotracheal tube replaced with a nasal cannula and the stitches on her head removed. She was glad that they were gone now, but it vexed her that she still had to stay for eight more days before she could be discharged.

Fortunately for her, the Weasley family – apart from Percy and Ron – Harry, Neville and Luna were there to keep her company. It surprised her that the usual gaiety in Fred and George's nature was absent. And it even surprised her more when Molly stated that the pranks they pulled to whoever they wanted to had ceased when the twins had heard about her.

Molly wouldn't stop asking how she was feeling or what she wanted to eat. It reminded her of the same warm feeling which grew in her heart whenever she visited the Burrow, it reminded her of those times when she was still a child and she and her grandmother would bake cookies; the same feeling she felt when she was with her best friends. It reminded her of memories she wanted to keep as only memories. Memories she wasn't supposed to relive.

For that, though, she was quite thankful. And she didn't know why.

While there, Molly and Harry had provided her the events of the past two months from the moment she met the accident to the day she opened her eyes. She had asked them about her parents, but whenever she did, Molly would change the topic and Harry would make up an excuse. Even her doctor wouldn't say a thing. And it frustrated her.

Was it wrong to ask about them?

Hermione knew at that moment that there was something they were not telling her: something of vital importance. And their silence about it sent a bad feeling in her stomach. However, it didn't stop her from being grateful for the comfort their company had given her.

Today, however, Harry was the only one who was able to pay her a visit since the Weasleys were busy helping rebuild Hogwarts. Now, he sat on the edge of her bed, reading Quidditch through the Ages. Hermione, herself, sat with her back leaned against her pillows, mutely watching him look through his book.

Hermione sighed.

Two months. It had been so long. So long that she almost could not recount the events that has transpired before the accident. At least she knew that she had found her parents and restored their memories – that, she was very sure of. At first, they'd been very furious at her actions. Especially her mother, Stella Granger, who delivered an impromptu scolding at her whilst her father just sat calmly and watched the scene unfold in front of his eyes.

She remembered the same furious look on his face but an amused glitter on his blue eyes betrayed it. It was an almost perfect family week then: consisting a three-day trip to France and a nice getaway in one of the Asian beaches, Boracay - a beautiful beach resort, with all the white-sand and clear blue water, located in the Philippines.

It never occurred to her, though, that it would end as quickly as it began.

Eyes closed, her mind reeled back to that fateful night. She remembered the cheerful laughter reverberating inside the car; her father singing along to The Smiths' Asleep; her mother asking her if she would want to study in a 'normal' school; the heavy pounding of the rain on the roof of the car; the flash of a blinding white light.

She was barely aware of the sound of tires slipping off the road, the ear-splitting clatter of metal against metal, the loud shattering of glass, the smell of fire, and the blood that flowed from her forehead to her face. She marveled if she even had the time to answer her mother's question.

She could have sworn she saw her life flash before her eyes then. And she wondered, for the second time, why she was still alive.

Hermione pushed the unwanted thoughts off her mind. She had yet to ask Harry about her parents, again. Maybe, just maybe, she could get him to talk about their condition.

"My parents…"

Harry jumped in his seat. He was so absorbed in his book that her faint voice had startled him.

"Harry, how about my parents?" she asked her best friend, her voice laced with the same concern it had six days ago, now ringing with a touch of desperation. "Are they alright? Where are they? Harry?"

"Hermione…" he didn't know how to break it to her and he suddenly wished that Ginny was with him, or maybe even Mrs. Weasley. Or maybe, he could find another excuse to avoid answering his best friend's condition.

He was confident when he asked Dr. Marquez not to break it to Hermione about her parents' predicament which the woman agreed to. The doctor even said that he – they – were free to tell her everything when they're ready. Or when she's ready.

He didn't have the slightest idea if now was the right moment, or if he was ready to tell her everything, or if she was ready to hear the truth. But Hermione deserved to know that much, right?

"What? Please, Harry, tell me they're okay, that they're fine."

His silence gave Hermione discomfort. Like she was watching a movie where the protagonist dies unexpectedly, which was very disheartening. But her parents were fine. They were, weren't they?

He took a deep breath then exhaled it off his mouth. It was now or never. Book laid forgotten on his side, he carefully said, "Hermione, your parents… they didn't make it."

Harry knew it was very straightforward of him. But beating around the bush would only make it worse.

'They didn't make it,' his words echoed through her mind. Somehow in the back of her mind, she'd known. But hearing him say it sealed it. A lump formed in her throat as tears blurred her vision. "No."

"I'm so sorry, Hermione." he said softly. "I know I should've told you sooner but, I didn't know how to and… I'm sorry."

"No, no, no," she repeated the same phrase over and over in her mind as if to convince herself. "They can't be. They can't be dead, Harry."

"Ssshh… Hermione. It's okay. It's going to be okay." Harry pulled her into a hug, his right hand drawing soothing circles on her back.

The young witch hugged him for her dear life, burying her face on the curve of his neck as sobs wrecked her frail figure. Her tears drenched Harry's shirt, but he did not mind, not at all.

"You're fine, Mia," he consoled. "You'll be fine."

"But it's hard," came her muffled response. "Why did it has to be them? Why, Harry? Why not just me? I should've died with them, Harry! I was there, too, remember? I should've just died!"

Harry held her in an arm's length, his green eyes pierced into her hazel ones. "Don't say that, Hermione Jean Granger. There's a reason that you're safe, that you're alive and they were not."

"It's their time, Hermione. I know it hurts a lot, I know how it feels. I am so sorry."

Hermione only shook her head, refusing to believe his words. "No, no, no."

"It's not yet your time to die, Hermione. You still have a lot to learn and live for. Your parents may be gone in this world, but they will stay forever in your heart. Remember that, okay? Those who love you never really leave you."

Hermione just stared at him for a moment, her mouth slightly open. "Since when did you become so smart?"

Harry cracked a smile. "Since you became my best friend, little sis."

She scrunched her nose at that. "I'm not little."

"I know," he said, the smile never leaving his face. "But promise me, Mia, you'll move on. The pain will get easier and you'll be fine, but you'll have to try. Just don't give up, okay? That's all I ask."

"I can't promise that, but…" she trailed off. She averted her gaze to the window where she could see the sun sparkling between the broken clouds. The sun's rays seeped through the window that retold her a promise of tomorrow.

A promise that seemed to convey her a new start, a fresh beginning.

She looked back at him with a soft smile on her lips and nodded her head yes, eyes as alight as the stars in the night sky. "Yes, I will."

It was then that Harry decided that he would do anything just to keep that fire burning bright. And nothing would stop him from doing so.

* * *

 **Author's note: The response has been amazing! I would like to thank each one of you who fallowed, fave'ed, reviewed this story. I hope you guys stay with me throughout this journey. Let me know what you think of this. Don't be shy to point out any mistakes or telling me what you don't like. I read and reread many times before posting but chances are there are always going to be that some mistakes will slip past.**

 **Also, a big thanks to those who followed and added me to their favorites. Hope you like my other stories as much as this one:-)**

 **Forgot to mention in last chapter, constructive c** **riticism is always welcome. That's it for now. Stay tuned:-)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

 _But memory is an abstract painting;_

 _It does not present things as they are,_

 _But rather as they feel._

 _Eugenia Collier, 'Marigolds'_

* * *

"Why couldn't we just move into another place?" asked an ever curious Emmett for what it felt like the umpteenth time. Alice, though she found her brother amusing, couldn't help but groan. Even Rosalie, who would often stay silent during some conversations, had muttered a soft, 'Oh, Emmett' with a shook of her head. The huge vampire pouted childishly at his mate who chuckled at his antics.

"We already told you, Emmett," Alice answered, leaning against Jasper as she made an eye contact on everyone. Her gaze lingered a little longer on Edward who sat sulkily on his piano bench. "It would only raise unwanted questions."

"But we already covered Bella's death," he argued back. "It wasn't like anyone was bound to connect the dots."

Carlisle glanced at Edward's direction as soon as the words slipped off Emmett's mouth. The bronze-haired vampire was clenching jaws, and his golden eyes were fixated on the marble floor. If the oldest Cullen didn't know any better, he would've said that his son was ready to rip his brother into shreds. Ironically enough, it would be Rosalie who would make such a remark, which greatly set the rest of them off guard when Emmett was the first one to suggest such thing.

It had been two weeks after the mortal's death. And the family had watched as Edward withdrew to his old self: all cold and silent. If not, he had been worse than before. He had blamed himself non-stop at his singer's death as Jasper had it confirmed.

The poor Texan vampire had to suffer Edward's conflicting emotions.

Charlie Swan, as they'd expected, had high doubts with his daughter's death. How did Bella have a bite mark on her wrist when the autopsy itself said that there was no foul play in the car crash?

Carlisle shook his head at his son before a fight between him and Alice could ensue. "Alice is right," he said. "We couldn't just leave after Bella's supposed death. Charlie still has his suspicions. And considering that he's good friends with Billy Black, it wouldn't take them long to put two and two together. Besides, there's only a year left for you to graduate."

"How about you guys finish your High School here and let things cool down for the moment before we move into a different place?" He added, pressing his fingertips together.

"Sounds like a plan," Jasper nodded while Emmett sighed and Alice, Rosalie and Esme agreed. Edward, who remained silent throughout the whole conversation, ran his hands on his hair and growled in frustration.

"Edward?" Esme asked in concern. "Are you alright, son?"

"Alice has been blocking me!" he snarled, glaring at his sister who looked back at him with an innocent smile. He might have pretended like he didn't give a damn about the whole thing, but he didn't fall behind with concern to what was happening around his family.

"What have you been keeping from us, little pixie?"

The smile on the smallest vampire's face grew wider. "I don't know what you're talking about, Eddie."

* * *

Ginny was worried for Hermione.

It had been six days since the latter was released from the hospital; six days since she had caged herself inside her bedroom. And the brunette had yet to come out and mingle with her friends.

But the redhead understood that things were not as easy for Hermione as it sounded. How would you ask a girl, who had lost her parents, to move on and lead the life she'd always lived, like nothing tragic has happened?

It wasn't until the Weasley matriarch decided that someone had to convince Hermione to stop drowning herself in misery, that Ginny spoke up, "I'll do it".

The rest of the Weasley clan – save for a certain Ronald Weasley who had yet to show himself - along with Harry and Teddy, were eating lunch in the dining hall of 12 Grimmauld Place.

She pushed her chair out and stood up, rounding on the corner to the set of stairs that lead to the second floor. She distantly heard her mother calling a short 'thank you' over her shoulder before she completely disappeared from their view.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked as she knocked on the oak door. She tested the knob and found it surprisingly unlocked. "Hermione I'm going to come in. Are you decent?"

Without getting a response from the brunette, Ginny pushed open the door and searched the room: it was as clean and organised as the first day she had stepped inside it. The bed was made, and it looked as if it hadn't been even an occupant in the room since the last six days.

The gentle breeze of the nearing autumn brushed the white curtains that adorned the half-opened windows. That was where she found her friend.

Hermione sat on the hardwood floor with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped tightly around them. There was a blank look set upon her eyes as she rocked herself back and forth. "Hermione?"

The older girl cocked her head on the side, her hair swaying limply with her action. "Ginny," she said, her voice barely above a whisper that the redhead had to strain her ears to hear her friend.

"Hermione, you have to eat," Ginny walked toward the other witch and sat down beside her.

"I'm not hungry." Ginny let out a heavy sigh as she took in the older witch's appearance. Hermione looked way paler than she had been in the hospital and her hazel eyes were devoid of the usual warmth it held. She looked so fragile Ginny was afraid that even the slightest touch might break her into tiny, million pieces.

This wasn't the Hermione she knew.

"That's what you told Harry when he tried to fetch you the other day." She was rewarded with no response. "Fine. But you have to come out of the wall you've built around you, Hermione. You can't stay like this forever. You have to move on."

Again, she received no response.

"I know it's hard for you, 'Mione. But maybe, maybe it's finally the time for you to move on, to keep memories as memories only. To forget the pains of yesterday and face what tomorrow would bring. Your parents wouldn't want you to live like this."

Hermione shook her head, eyes still trained outside the window. "I... can't. I'm afraid, Ginny."

"I'm afraid that if I move on, I would forget what they looked like or how their voices sounded... I don't want to let go of the only thread that tied me with them now."

"Oh, Hermione," Ginny exhaled, scooting closer to the older girl and wrapping her in a warm embrace. The redhead felt her friend's resolve broke as tears ran down her face.

"It hurts so much," the brunette hiccupped. "I d-don't think I can take it an-anymore."

"Sshhh, it's going to be fine," she soothed, cradling the skinny girl in her arms. Ginny swore she could feel her best friend's bones beneath her baggy shirt.

"Now, come on and eat before Mum decides to force food down your throat. Merlin, you're skin and bones!" That had Hermione smiling a little. She knew how Molly could be very... motherly sometimes. And it looked like Ginny had inherited the personality from her mother.

While Ginny was helping Hermione to fix herself, a hesitant knock could be heard from the door. "Come in," the younger one called.

Both girls watched as Harry's head poked in as the door swung open, a grave look etched on his handsome features. "Harry?" Hermione inquired, her forehead scrunched up in worry. "Is everything alright?"

He smiled tightly at his best friend. He was very grateful that Ginny had seemed to achieve what they've been failing to for days. And just seeing how she was slowly coming back to her old self made him happier. He'd hated the blank look in her eyes the other day. He didn't want to add another burden onto her shoulders.

He shook his head at her question and sat beside her, taking her small hands in his large ones.

"Kingsley has some bad news."

* * *

 **A/N: So, I know that no amount of apologies will make up for the long break. I'd just like to thank you all for sticking by with this story. This chapter was also written by by AliceEnchanted. Good news is next chapter is almost ready and will be up by next week or sooner, if I get enough motivation *wink wink* I'd love to hear what you guys have to say about this chapter, and what you think the bad news is going to be.**

 **Till then,**

 **Adieu**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

 _Music, when soft voices die,_

 _Vibrates in the memory –_

 _Odours, when sweet violets sicken,_

 _Live within the sense they quicken._

 _Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,_

 _Are heaped for the beloved's bed;_

 _And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,_

 _Love itself shall slumber on._

 _Percy Bysshe Shelley, 'Music, when Soft Voices Die'_

* * *

 _Harry's PoV_

Harry Potter may not be as smart as his best friend, but he knew that something was clearly wrong the moment Kingsley Shacklebolt entered the doors of 12 Grimmuald Place. He might've faced a mountain troll, a giant, three-headed dog and a Dark Lord in disguise all when he was eleven; killed an enormous and deadly snake when he was twelve; produced a corporeal patronus when he was thirteen; involuntarily joined a dangerous tournament when he was fourteen; battled Death Eaters when he was fifteen; and faced his biggest and most dangerous adventures when he was sixteen. But never had he done an impromptu guessing game.

That was Hermione's forte.

The elder wizard had a look of worry etched on his face, and his eyes were downcast. But there seemed to be a darker shadow lurking behind them. His suspicion grew even heavier when he was cast out of the kitchens where all the elders had gathered, leaving him all confused and giddy with nervousness and worry.

It wasn't every day that a troubled wizard would knock on your door only to drop a bomb you're not expecting. And that's exactly the predicament they'd found themselves in.

Whatever they were talking about must have been a matter of great importance as it took them an hour or two before a crying Molly, a troubled Arthur, a worried Kingsley, and a bunch of perturbed Order members emerged from the kitchen. A hand and a shake of the head stopped him from asking any questions about what had transpired. And Harry knew, in that moment, that his suspicions were confirmed. Something was clearly wrong, and bad – or maybe, even worse – and it only made him thirst even more for answers to his doubts.

So he was quite grateful when Arthur, who was still consoling a now sniffling Molly, kindly asked him to fetch Hermione. But it didn't quench the tightening in his throat, or the sudden knot that settled in his stomach. He cared too much for his best friend, and he was afraid that whatever was happening right now, or whatever news was about to be broken to them, he wasn't sure if he was ready for it. If she was ready for it.

* * *

 _Kingsley's PoV_

I waited patiently in the sitting room for Harry to come down with Hermione. I didn't want to announce this in front of everyone considering Hermione's fragile health. I had promised them that whatever it was, they'll know only after I informed Hermione. Merlin, did I hate to be the bearer of this news. She would be crushed.

I heard the quiet footsteps coming down the staircase and treading lightly on the floorboards before they entered the room.

There she was, Harry and Ginny flanking her on either side. I looked at Ginny in surprise. She thrust out her chin defiantly, and I nodded, understanding she wasn't leaving her best friend's side.

Looking at Hermione, I felt a pain fill my chest. Her face was still smeared with tear tracks, long dried and her eyes; her eyes they looked like they were dead, hollow just a dull brown instead of the vibrant twinkle of golden wisdom which normally shined in her eyes. Her hair looked like an heartless attempt had been made to fix them before giving up.

I got up from the armchair as I strode towards her. "Oh, Hermione."

"Kings," she cried out as she reached out to me. I hugged her as firmly as I could, her curls just residing by my chest. I felt the bones in her ribs on the inside of my arms. Dear God, she was stick and bones.

I pulled away from her but held her at her shoulders, peering at her intently. "Hermione, when was the last meal you had?"

She blushed but answered, "A while?"

"Sweetheart, are you asking me or answering me? Now, how long is a while?"

At that, she looked down murmuring something illegible.

Looking back at her friends standing behind her helplessly, I nodded, gesturing at Hermione. Harry immediately understood as he left.

I pulled her towards the chair, with my arm on her waist now, but changed course and went to the love seat.

There was a debate going on in my head now, whether to tell her or not. Deciding it would be better if she started fighting or at least thinking, she'd be on her way to recovery, I opened my mouth. "Hermione, do you think you are up to the news now?"

At that, I felt the scrape of the chair against the floor as Ginny pulled up a chair besides her friend.

Hermione looked up, interest and curiosity etched on her face. Glad that her blank mask was gone, I started gently but without coating it, "Hermione, that night, the car accident, our sources say it may not have been a car accident. Some rogue death eaters who were not accounted for immediately after the battle are thought to play a role in that. Do you remember anything of that night?"

Her breath hitched, as she looked at me, holding my eyes looking for something, for what I don't know.

"I, I think there was something in the trees, that I caught a glimpse of, for just a second but then there was nothing afterwards. My senses had been alert but I thought that was just because of the heavy thunderstorm and lightnings."

Harry returned with a plate of buttered toasts, potato chips and some sauce. Along with a tray, with tea for all, no doubt Molly's doing, levitating behind him.

He placed the trays on the table, serving us tea, before taking the armchair on my side.

"Would you mind if you let us look at your memories in a pensieve for any clues?"

She shook her head mutely as her hand reached towards a slice of toast.

After a moment, she looked up at me, "Why?"

I understood it had nothing to do with her memory for the pensieve.

"We don't know, revenge I suppose, but I promise you," I emphasized "I promise you I'll personally ensure that whoever did that won't live once once he or she is caught."

"Good," she replied, her voice hoarse.

Harry spoke up then, "But Kingsley, why was your message urgent? Couldn't this have waited? I'm sure the Aurors are already on the trail."

"Thank you Harry, for your confidence. Yes, you're absolutely right. I am here because I am afraid whoever did that, will look to finish the job once they find out Hermione's alive. At the moment only the nurses at the Muggle hospital, and the authorities involved, know that Hermione here is alive. Here in the Wizarding World, I assume only us along with the Weasley's know about her. Now I need your vow that what I am about to reveal would not go out, yes Ginny, even your family. If you think, both of you, if you'll be unable to keep this secret then I suggest you leave us to it. I wouldn't blame you if you left right now."

I waited for both of them as Hermione observed her friends silently, not influencing their decision in any way.

"I am not going anywhere. She's my best friend. It isn't as though I haven't kept secrets from my family before." Ginny said, straighting her shoulders.

Harry smiled, "Well, how could I break your or Hermione's trust, in the matter of her safety? She's always stood by me, it's time I returned a small favour."

Hermione smiled at Harry and I began, addressing her, "I am thinking that you should leave the country, until all the Death eaters are caught. We'll plant a false trail. Even if they realise you are alive, they won't be able to catch you immediately. I realise you just spent a whole year on the run, and I don't want for you to go through that again. Even the Order won't know your true location. Unfortunately, this means we won't be able to keep contact with you, even the three of us, but you'll be safe."

I had barely finished that sentence, when Ginny jumped up, "Hey, where do you think she's going on her own? Harry and I are going to be there with her too. If the death eaters do catch up to her she won't be able to fight them off alone." She said with a nod, as if confirming this mentally.

Harry too joined in, "Kingsley, as much as I merit the idea, I think Ginny's right. Me and Ginny, we both, can help her if the situation arises and she will also have us for company. She can't go off to the middle of nowhere on her own. Familiar faces would help."

Hermione glared up defiantly, some fight showing in her, "I won't have you guys in danger because of me. Now, sit down both of you and listen to what Kingsley has to say."

Harry for back to her, "Hermione, I too didn't want you and Ron with me on the Horcrux hunt but you were stubborn. Just for that, I will stick with you this time, and no, I am not asking." He waited for her to argue.

She sighed in defeat, knowing already that Ginny was a lost cause and Harry wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Where are we going and when?"

"Well..."

* * *

 **A/n: So you guys know it'll be Hermione going somewhere, but is it going to be Forks or not? That is going to be answered within next 2-3 chapters. You'll just have to wait and see! You guys are the best motivators ever! A huge thanks to all those who reviewed the story: I really appreciate your thoughts on this story! Thank you to all those who added this to favorites and alerts!**

 **To all those who're celebrating Kite Flying Festival tomorrow, stay safe, and look out for the birds! Have fun:-)**


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